


Snow Day

by ksiezycowa_kaplanka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Christmas Eve, Connor being a good son, Depressed Hank Anderson, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Oneshot, POV Connor, Parent Hank Anderson, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 17:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15514749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksiezycowa_kaplanka/pseuds/ksiezycowa_kaplanka
Summary: Connor is accustomed to being Lieutenant Hank Anderson's companion both in the workplace and at home. With the holidays just a few days away, Hank sulks and reflects on his time before his son's death while Connor tries to cheer up the ever grumpy Lieutenant.





	Snow Day

Connor is accustomed to being Lieutenant Hank Anderson's companion both in the workplace and at home. He is often his caretaker after a few too many drinks, or an encouraging presence to help maintain his health through good eating habits and abstaining from said excessive drinking. 

However, Connor observes the man to be, in the latest weeks, to be increasingly somber and distant. 

Usually Hank has a sarcastic remark for anything Connor says, but the man now silently retires to the kitchen table with a case of Malt Liquor and a single light illuminating the room. 

Connor observes this one evening as he tidies the man's overcrowded kitchen sink. 

Hank leaves the TV playing in the living room. Sounds of music and singing echoing into the kitchen.  

"No no..." Hank says to the android, "Keep that on, it's too quiet in this damn house." He takes a swig from his bottle and sits bitterly with his head perched on his hand, cascade of graying hair falling over his eyes. 

Connor looks to the TV, watching the program play. It shows images of snowy evergreen trees, children laughing and playing, and singing the familiar holiday tune. 

He observes the world outside, his LED turning yellow as he is dismayed to notice no snowfall. 

This year's winter, Connor notices, is 32% dryer than the average winters in Detroit. The city is expected to experience snowfall in late November, however, with Christmas just days away, there was still no snow. 

Connor's attention shifts back to the program, whose setting has changed and now displays a family sitting around a fireplace with an evergreen rooted in their living room, decorated with varying colors of ornaments, ribbons, and twinkling lights. 

"Lieutenant." Connor begins, drying off a clean glass, "Is it customary or tradition to decorate and display a Christmas tree in your family?"

The man looks up at the android and frowns, "What family?" He says sourly, taking another swig of liquor. 

Connor senses Hank's negativity and resigns from prodding further. 

At the back door, Sumo whines impatiently. 

Hank groans, "Take the dog out will you?" tossing an empty bottle into the trash and opening another. 

Connor obeys. 

 

Outside, the air is cold with a fine frost forming over the cracks in the sidewalk and on bristles of dead grass. Connor follows Sumo as he curiously sniffed and smelled his way around the neighborhood, stopping only to urinate on a hydrant or fence. 

Connor allows the dog to roam freely because Sumo always listens for his whistle to return, and respects the android when he decides it is time to go home. 

"Sumo!" He calls, whistling for the dog to return. The enormous Saint Bernard gallops over, looking back in the direction of their home. "No, not yet." Connor says, "You just went out too far." 

They continue to walk together, Connor allowing himself to enjoy the brisk breeze and fresh winter air, and Sumo eagerly leading the way across streets and into new territories. 

Sumo suddenly stops, entranced by the dancing colorful lights and animated reindeer jumping on someone's rooftop. Connor looks up at the spectacle on the roof, then to the tree standing at the center of the house's window. On the door hung a wreath decorated with frosty evergreen branches and a bright red ribbon that read "Joy to the World." 

He couldn't understand what 'Joy' was being brought to the world, but infers that it is a verse from a common Christmas carol that shares the title "Joy to the World."

"Hank would appreciate some joy. Wouldn't he Sumo?" He asks the dog, who looks up to the android and huffs. 

As they continue to walk, Connor notes the fifty-four homes they pass that had a decorated tree standing at their window. Common colors, he also notes, of red, green, silver, and white, adorn the trees and other decorative items. 

They near their home, nestled between neighbors also just as decorated for the holidays. 

Sumo rushes inside, escaping from the cold as Connor locks the door behind them. He finds Hank asleep at the table, clutching the last of a malt liquor and the TV still playing. 

"Hank?" Connor asks, shaking the man, who responds incoherently.

"I'm going to help you into bed." 

Connor effortlessly lifts the weighty detective and takes him into the bedroom, placing him into bed and covering him with the duvet. 

Hank mumbles and groans, but Connor ignores him as he pours a glass of water and leaves a bottle of pain relievers at his bedside table. 

"Have a good night." Connor tells him. 

As he shut the door to the lieutenant's room, he hears the man mumble, "Good night Cole, sweet dreams." 

Connor feels the equivalent of a chill running down his spine, his LED flashing yellow. 

 _He misses his son._ He thinks to himself.  _Christmas must have been a significant holiday to them._

 

 

As he tidies the empty bottles of liquor and organizes the couch cushions, Connor listens to the TV, which switched to the nightly news. 

"And tomorrow night, be excited and relieved to find a two inch blanket of snow covering your yard. Expected highs in the lower thirties, but no lower than middle twenties, a comfortably cold night for some fluffy white snow." The weatherman says. 

Connor's LED flickers blue as he eyes the modestly sized evergreen rooted in the yard. 

Sumo watches inquisitively as Connor unlocks the door to Hank's basement. He descends the creaky wooden staircase and illuminates the room with a flashlight. 

Boxes, stray hangers, and questionable jars populate the lower portion of the home. Some had labels and others were blank. But one particular box catches the android's eye. 

Written in scrawled handwriting, much like that of a child, a box is labeled 'Christmas'. 

Connor unfolds the top of the box and is amazed to find an array of decorations, lights, and ornaments. He eagerly returns with the box upstairs. 

Outside, he untangles the colorful string lights and winds them round the evergreen as high as his height would allow. He hangs ornaments of varying size, shape, and color on the tree's branches and ties a red ribbon at the base of the trunk. 

Stepping back, Connor marvels at his work.  _Maybe this will make Hank happy, at least for a little while._

 

 

During the days leading up to Christmas, Hank is reluctant to leave his bedroom. Connor, within reason, brought him the booze and food he asked for as he fell in and out of sleep and mood swings. 

The snow promised by the weatherman a couple nights ago never came, and Christmas Eve was naked of snow. 

Connor attempts to cook Hank a warm meal, as it is customary by some family's tradition: a simple plate of potatoes, roast turkey, cranberry sauce, and a glass of sparkling cider. 

He takes it to Hank's bedroom, where he lazily scrolls through an article on his tablet. 

"I brought you dinner, Lieutenant." Connor says, presenting him the prepared meal and flute of cider. 

Hank turns to eye him, "I was wondering what you were burning in there." 

Connor sets the plate down at the bedside table, "I encourage you to eat Sir. After all, Christmas Eve is usually the time people have Christmas dinner." 

Hank sits up in bed, "Since when did you become such a traditionalist?" 

Connor opens his mouth to speak but is silenced as he watches Hank swiftly down the entire flute of sparkling cider and motioning for more.

"Of course." He says, exiting the room with Hank's empty flute. 

Connor never returns to the bedroom with the refill, but instead opts to continue neatening their home. 

Sumo lies on the couch, watching Connor gather the day's trash and tie a knot at the top of a full bag. He looks up and is amazed at the sight before him. 

Outside the living room window was a thick blanket of snow draped across the lawns and roofs of the whole neighborhood. People's decorations illuminate the dark streets and footprints garnish the sidewalks. 

Connor hurries outside, relishing the feeling of the cool snowflakes melting on his skin and savoring the magical coincidence of snowfall on Christmas Eve. 

"Hank!" Connor shouts, dashing to a nearby outlet to light the string lights, "Hank! Come quick!" 

He shoves the plug into the outlet and watches in amazement as the lights twinkle to life. 

"Hank!" He calls again. 

 

Inside, Sumo barks restlessly at Hank. 

"Go away." Hank shoos the dog, "C'mon get!" 

But Sumo continues to bark as Connor shouts for him outside. 

Faintly Hank hears Connor, "Hank, come out! You're going to love this!" 

Hank grudgingly rises from the bed, shoulders his robe, and follows Sumo into the living room. 

 

Connor watches Hank drag himself through the living room, pausing to look at the spectacle outside on his yard. Hank shakes his head as he makes his way to the door. Sumo ardently bouncing at his feet. 

Peering outside the door, Hank inspects his yard. 

Connor stands proudly before the twinkling tree, ornaments reflecting multitudes of color and red ribbon fluttering in the wind.

"Merry Christmas Lieutenant." He says, folding his hands behind his back. 

Hank, in awe, stands at the door with arms crossed from the cold. Sumo barrels out of the house and into the snow. 

He leaps onto Connor, toppling the android and excitedly throwing snow from his nose. 

Connor hears Hank's laughter, a laugh filled with joy, amusement, and wonder. 

Hank walks onto his yard in his slippers, ignoring the cold that invaded his feet. He shoos Sumo and offers a hand to Connor. 

He rises and is immediately met with a tight embrace from his partner. 

"Thank you, son." He hears him say.

His LED flickers blue and Connor returns the embrace, a warmth sweeping over his body. 

"You're welcome." He says, "Merry Christmas." 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I do not celebrate a "traditional" American Christmas as my family is from Eastern Europe, so a lot of the information on "American Christmas" is based around a brief google search.  
> Let me know where I should be corrected :)
> 
> A/N #2: Hi! I just wanted to thank you so much for reading! We reached 200 reads in less than 24 hours and it honestly warms my heart so much that y'all are taking time out of your day to read this oneshot.   
> Much love and thanks!


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